


Once More

by afuzzyowl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bit of Fluff, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afuzzyowl/pseuds/afuzzyowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At twenty-five years old, they meet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephieshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephieshine/gifts).



> for my lovely friend! i'm sorry it took so long, bb, but here it is, FINALLY. errrr remember how i said it'd be short? ended up being 3k words.......haha....ha...
> 
> modern reincarnation au, and let's pretend same-sex marriage legalization is a thing of the future. very minor erejean. enjoy! :)

At twenty-five, their eyes lock across the subway platform for one silent second before converging trains tear them from each other’s sight, man-made wind whipping gold into ice blue and black into mercury gray. They think the other an illusion, a trick of the mind—it definitely wouldn’t be the first time—but when they trudge into their respective cars, and Levi edges close to his window to peek across the tracks, he catches Erwin doing the same, and they _know_. In two stumbling steps, Levi is back at the doors, but his shaking fingers slip on the rubber trim and it’s too late, too late, the train’s starting to move already and he wants nothing more than to pry those doors open and run and jump and fly but he can’t because there’s no 3D maneuver gear in this world so he’d only plummet to his death and—and wouldn’t that be a shame? Erwin, knowing the futility, stays in his seat, gesturing and mouthing with his nose leaving marks on glass as he drags Levi’s heart the opposite direction. His head is the mere size of Levi’s thumb, but they both know Levi will understand what he means anyway.

There is no room for words when they finally meet, only grunts, cries, hissed praises as Levi claws at Erwin’s bedsheets like he’s done after many an expedition, except it’s silky Egyptian cotton that splits beneath his nails this time. Levi calls in sick and Erwin arrives to work three hours late: the first time he’s ever been late. Scratches are swelling on his back and bruises are purpling an inch beneath his starched collar, and it’s like he’s found home.

At twenty-six, they’ve had enough of dark morning crawls back to their own places, so Levi moves in to Erwin’s flat, and everything is perfect. Passion livens the walls, spontaneously found on the sofa, on the desk in Erwin's office, against the kitchen counter: an exploratory, simmering heat that leaves their knees weakened long after. The love they were afraid to acknowledge before is freely given now, laughs loud and kisses frequent without the weight of humanity on their shoulders. Energy crackles in their blood even as they sleep little, too caught up in not-sleeping and sweet-talking and simply existing in each other’s worlds. Outside the window, orange leaves fall, crooked snowmen grow tall, trumpet daffodils bloom, stuffy thunderstorms boom, and they’re clinging together through it all, like they’re afraid the other might disappear tomorrow.

At twenty-eight, the rosy glow of their life shatters when Levi’s legs are crushed in a car accident, and while in the past maimed limbs were nothing new and they would have been grateful he even survived, things are different in this world. The doctor says Levi will likely never walk again, so he quits his job at the preschool, spends his days in physical therapy and his nights at home in drugged, fitful sleep. Work gets busier at the company, but Erwin never fails to pick Levi up from the hospital, seven p.m. every evening with takeout waiting in the backseat. The circles under Erwin’s eyes deepen with each passing day, and on the rare night that the pain meds don’t knock him unconscious, Levi stares at the black ceiling, listening to Erwin breathe, and thinks about how heavy a burden he has become.

At thirty, two years of agony and what the doctors claim a ‘medical miracle’ later, Levi is able to wobble short distances on his own two feet leaning on a cane he despises almost as much as he despised the military police. But still, he is useless: a jobless, middle-aged cripple leeching off of his lover in a flat he can’t even clean. And that is all. That is the sum of his existence, despite Erwin’s reassurances that Levi’s company alone is good enough for him, but Levi does not believe those words, cannot afford to believe them (and even if he did he would not settle for _good enough_ ). Yet he cannot bring himself to leave, because they’ve finally found each other, and this is their second chance, and he—can’t leave.

At thirty-one, the healing of Levi’s legs has slowed, and Erwin watches helplessly as something inside the strong man dies along with his loss of hope. Erwin loves Levi, but he tires, too. The acrimony, he puts up with, the frustration, the brittle temper of Levi’s sparking Erwin’s own—he swallows it all for both of them, because Levi is hurting and Levi is precious. But the questions, no, the questions are a weight Erwin cannot bear. They start small and grow, a cancer sprouting in his heart: why don’t you pick up after yourself? why haven’t you fixed your shitty habits even after I’ve told you a million times? do you listen to me talk? why do you keep me here when you don’t need me? why don’t you make me leave? And it’s the last question, the final “you don’t actually want me here, do you?” that pushes Erwin over the edge.

They stand tall and rigid in the living room, Levi shaky but refusing to show weakness, Erwin feeling sicker than he ever had in his past life because his one constant is fading. It is a cold war of stinging words they don’t mean, warped by an explosion of neglected emotions. “The Levi I loved would have put his trust in me,” says Erwin, and Levi answers, “Not for an ex-war hero who pretends he’s more than just a filthy-rich fuck.”

Neither man apologizes.

At thirty-three, Levi’s legs have become strong enough for him to leave the house, much to his shocked relief. On his good days, he can go out on his own to buy groceries, and he even begins to think about looking for a job. With his legs and life somewhat back under control, his shoulders should be lighter, his future brighter, but they’re not, they’re not, because he can’t remember the last time he and Erwin have slept in the same room, sex a distant remembrance of laughter-filled times.

Erwin comes home later and later after he is made CEO, and the extent of their everyday interaction is limited to a muttered greeting during breakfast and Erwin peeking into Levi’s room when he makes it back from the company, long after the latter has gone to sleep. Dinner lies covered on the dining table, each day looking more delicious as Levi relearns to create art from food: a non-verbal apology. But it’s been so long already that they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other, and it’s hard to say sorry when the memory of the other’s careless words still aches in their hearts.

Levi tries to be understanding, knows he’s been a pain these past few years, absorbed in his insecurities, in the fear that Erwin will realize Levi's nothing without titans. He cooks Erwin’s favourites four times a week, irons Erwin’s clothes before he can ask, and makes the flat spotless for Erwin’s comfort. Levi's never been the type to care more about his work than the people involved in it, but he knows that the opposite is true for Erwin, that work will always come first, and that even in this lifetime, Erwin is out there doing big, generous things.

At thirty-six, Levi allows two months of not seeing a single glimpse of Erwin’s face before deciding that it is time to move on. He trusts Erwin with his life but not with his love; feelings are fickle things, fragile, fleeting. Luck is never on his side in love.

In the past, they would have stayed together for the sake of humanity, but now there is no humanity, no one else; now, it is only Levi and Erwin, and they are equals, and Levi is tired of eating meals alone, tired of sitting useless in an empty apartment, tired of watching the clock. He thinks that while they have gained much in this lifetime, perhaps they have lost a little, too.

When Erwin gets back at four in the morning and finds Levi waiting on the couch in darkness, the first thing he notices are the black smudges under Levi’s eyes, further shadowed by the blue glow of the television. “Welcome home,” Levi croaks, and it’s the first time Erwin’s heard his voice in months, and his lips wants to twitch up in a tentative smile—but then Levi is saying something about how he will be living with a friend until he can afford his own place again, goodbye Erwin, thank you Erwin, sorry Erwin.

Levi is prepared to have a proper, adult talk about this, but Erwin only stands there, frozen in shock, and Levi counts one, two, five minutes of silence before he is done with all of this. His luggage is packed in his room because although a part of him had hoped things would go differently, reality is as he feared, after all.

His jacket is buttoned and he’s shoving his feet into shoes when Erwin stops him with a hand on his wrist. Levi does not want to face him, afraid of his own weakness, but Erwin coaxes him to turn, gentle, that smooth hand, uncharacteristically wordless in his plea. Still, Levi is tired, and he knows Erwin is tired as well, and Levi cannot see a way to fit together mismatched puzzle pieces, so he shakes his head and turns to go.

Erwin watches him open the door, wondering how it’s come to this when they had something beautifu—but no, is Erwin the only one who thought it beautiful? What did Levi think? How did Levi feel? What has Erwin ever done for Levi (dragging him into a war getting his friends killed his squad killed Erwin himself killed leaving Levi alone in bloody victory)? But now they have a second chance and Erwin has allowed his own selfish hurt to drive Levi away, sacrificed his loving Levi not for humanity, but for the holes in Erwin’s heart, and Erwin knows he is too lacking of a human being for a man like Levi.

But he will try. He must try.

When Erwin’s knees hit the hardwood floor with a crack, Levi whirls around, staring down at him because he has never in his lives seen Erwin Smith so vulnerable, not even when he was wheeled back on the last expedition, bleeding out from the missing chunk of his torso. Then Erwin’s arms are around him, face buried in his stomach, whimpering something about “atonement” and “hell” and “but I can’t without you, Levi, I can’t.”

And Levi realizes that he is wrong. He can’t leave, not when he’s learned nothing yet about this Erwin he’s gained, not when he hasn’t given this Erwin the chance to earn his trust.

That night, they have sex for the first time in years, slow, melting, two grown men with wetness in their eyes.

At forty, they have softened. Erwin has learned to take criticism and concern not as questions of faith but as love, and Levi has learned that his nightmare of becoming dead weight will never come true. Dinner is eaten together every night over casual conversation, and evenings are spent sitting pressed close on the couch, watching TV. But sometimes, Erwin listens to Levi’s heartbeat as he sleeps, and wonders if he can do more. His decision is made on a quiet snowy morning, when he wakes Levi with a kiss and an offer.

At forty-two, Erwin’s early retirement is finalized and they move to Sylt, Germany, an island of grass fields, candy-stripe lighthouses, and white-sand beaches. They’ve built a house there, a three-storey of creams and French windows, large but somehow cozier than anywhere else Levi has lived. They go fishing when the weather is kind, or pack the car full of food and drive for weeks without destination. On good days when Levi’s legs feel entirely like his own, they go camping in a cabin up further north, and memories of red-splattered forests are overridden by the warmth of being wrapped in one another, the smell of the crackling fireplace, the song of birds in dewy mornings. Now and then, when they feel up to a bit of shopping, they take a ferry and shuttlebus to Flensburg, the narrow streets and cobblestone and Tudor-style inns nostalgic. Other times, when longing for large cities gets especially strong, tickets are bought for a train to Hamburg, where they enjoy the bustling crowds and never-ending nightlife until homesickness washes over them anew.

At forty-five, the live-in housekeeper they hired a year ago, a young Syrian refugee, dies in a car accident on her way to town. Left behind are her five-year-old triplets, with no family remaining but each other. Erwin and Levi raise them as their own, send them to school and help with their homework, sleep with them when they get nightmares. Kisses remain chaste until the kids are gone, and sex no longer happens at night, no matter how in the mood they might be, because Armin’s too light of a sleeper, Eren immediately shoots awake if Armin stirs, and Mikasa, as a rule, doesn’t sleep unless Eren’s by her side. Erwin and Levi argue a little more often now, always about the children, and usually about disciplinary styles (Levi believes in pain, while Erwin in gentle reasoning). It’s frustrating, and tiring, and kids are messy and noisy and dumb, but when they thrust painstakingly drawn Happy Father’s Day cards into Levi’s and Erwin’s hands, and Levi sees Erwin tear up like he’s begun to do so often lately, he thinks that it’s all worth it.

At fifty-five, Levi catches Eren making out with his ‘enemy’ in Eren’s bed, and Erwin has to hold him back from beating them both to pulps. They spend the following three hours at the kitchen table, Jean shaking like a newborn puppy as Levi grills him, Eren quiet for once as he takes the verbal flaying, Armin and Mikasa unsuspecting as they are roped into the fray. After a thorough interrogation of all three Smith-Ackermans, Erwin brings out a banana and a package of condoms, and that is when the house explodes in horrified screams.

At fifty-eight, the kids have left for college after blubbery goodbyes and sincere promises to visit. It’s just Erwin and Levi again, quiet and a tad lonely, but peaceful as well. They settle easily into their old routine, mornings of newspapers and tea, afternoons of cleaning and the occasional outing, and nights of gentle love-making.

At sixty-seven, same-sex marriage is legalized. When the story breaks on the news channel, Erwin drops his book as Levi whirls around to look at him, dish soap bubbles flying everywhere, and they stare at each other. Neither says a word, but then they’re scrambling towards the computer as quickly as their creaky joints can manage, frantically downloading the marriage registration forms on their dial-up internet. The papers are filled out as soon as the printer ink is dry, and Erwin has his shoes on already before Levi remembers himself, remembers that Erwin has a cold and that they shouldn’t be going out in this rainy weather anyway. It takes a full fifteen minutes, but Erwin is convinced to stay with a bribe that they cuddle in bed for the rest of the day, and they do, soft, warm kisses shared between inane snippets of conversation (“Levi, you’ll get sick”, “Shut the fuck up and kiss me”).

Three days later, they are officially husband and husband. Erwin has never seen Levi cry, but Levi cries now, silent tears trailing down the wrinkled face that Erwin loves so much.

At seventy-one, they attend Eren and Jean’s wedding. It’s a simple ceremony held in a rustic barn, far out into the countryside. The triplets and Jean try horseback riding for the first time and master it so quickly that Levi and Erwin wonder if, perhaps, the memories exist somewhere inside their children as well (they hope they don’t). After the vows and rings are exchanged, and fireworks are flowering in the sky outside, Erwin draws Levi towards the spotlit center of the barn. Their black leather shoes, perfectly polished, clack against the hardwood dance floors as they sway to Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over”. And they’ve never both cried at the same time, as if one needs to stay strong for the other, so it must be the music, or the surrounding happiness, or their weakened bodies that makes their cheeks damp then.

At seventy-five, Erwin dies of a sudden heart attack. Levi thinks the shock will kill him too but his heart stubbornly beats on—oh, how he wishes he could’ve given Erwin his—and he’s confused and lost and bitter ( _not again_ , why, why, _why_ , don’t they say that the ones with bad legs always go first...?). Yes, at seventy-five, he’s seen the end coming and it shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does anyway because Erwin is his everything, has always been his everything. The children occasionally visit, insist on moving him in with one of them, but Levi stays in his and Erwin’s house, telling the walls good morning and goodnight each day, wondering if Erwin can hear him.

At seventy-nine, Levi finally brings himself to scatter Erwin’s ashes in the ocean, as per his husband's will. He remembers still, decades ago, drifting on the flat seas with Erwin, all quiet whispers until they caught a big one. At least in this life, they got to see the ocean together.

At eighty-one, on a warm summer day, Levi watches in his wheelchair as high tide approaches in the distance. Mikasa asks if he’d like to go back inside now, but he shakes his head. The wind is hard on his dry, withered skin, but the salted air smells like home, and the sunset is beautiful, and he can’t think of any other way he’d prefer to go.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. kudos and comments always appreciated. 
> 
> join me in screaming about these old men on tumblr: [afuzzyowl](http://afuzzyowl.tumblr.com)


End file.
